In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest needWhen the pool of tears beneath my feet floods every newborn seedThere's a dying voice within me reaching out somewhereToiling in the danger and the morals of despair

Don't have the inclination to look back on any mistakeLike Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must breakIn the fury of the moment I can see the Master's handIn every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand

Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryearLike criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheerThe sun beams down upon the steps of time to light the wayTo ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay

I gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flameAnd every time I pass that way I'll always hear my nameThen onward in my journey I come to understandThat every hair is numbered like every grain of sand

I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the nightIn the violence of a summer's dream, in the chill of a wintry lightIn the bitter dance of loneliness fading into spaceIn the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face

I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the seaSometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only meI am hanging in the balance of the reality of manLike every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand